


Midnight's Parlay

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Devinaeux is a terrier in human form basically, Drugging, Enemies to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, handjobs, part two is basically PWP, the shaky scaffolding to hold the porn together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 08:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19460335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Agent Devinaeux is drugged while pursuing Carmen, and Shadowsan steps in to watch over him while he recovers.The night takes them both somewhere neither expect.





	1. forethought is for the enemy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote part one on my phone at 4am I genuinely don't know if it will make sense.  
> 100% self indulgent and the porn is coming trust me

* * *

"Wait! Halt!" Agent Devinaeux bounced off a wall as he stumbled, reaching out to steady himself.

The VILE operative was getting away, but Devinaeux's feet seemed to be getting slower.  
Perhaps drinking only coffee and skipping breakfast and lunch were not his best plan. But he had been excited! The information was good, the lead solid. 

So why did he feel like...this? His body got slower, heart pounding hard in his chest. Agent Devinaeux stumbled to a halt, breathing hard. He leaned his elbow against the wall, panting. 

"Oh no," he whispered, before the blackness took his vision, and he slumped to the ground. 

*

" -no, it isn't your concern. I will deal with him." 

Chase woke with a head of cotton, and a dry mouth. He recognized that voice- that was the shadowy man! The one that had double crossed VILE, who had held him captive. 

He struggled against the lethargic weight of his limbs, panic giving him energy.  
Not again! He would not do this again!

"Shadowsan, I think he's waking up." Spoke a familiar voice. He blinked several times, but couldn't seem to focus his eyes properly. Was that the Crimson Shadow? 

The man Carmen San Diego called Shadowsan grunted a dismissal, pointing away. 

"Go now, before he wakes up."

Devinaeux had managed to push himself into a sit, shocked at how winded it left him. He must have been drugged, although he could not think of when. But these VILE agents, they were crafty! 

"Don't hurt him."

This Shadowsan person turned towards him, and Devinaeux fixed him with his best glare, although it wasn't very impressive as he was barely clinging to consciousness. The older man considered him, then straightened with a sigh. 

"I will watch over him while he recovers. But you must go, Carmen."

The world tilted again, and the last thing Agent Devinaeux saw was Shadowsan's determined face as he leaned towards him.


	2. Eleven o'clock dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a creative way to chase away a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the side effects of a large tranquilizer dose once the knock out bit wears off are very convenient.

* * *

* * *

He woke up somewhere quite a bit more comfortable then he’d expected, give the circumstance when he had passed out. Chase pushed himself up slowly, groaning at the dull throb in his head, and looked around. The room was small, bare of personal affects, and he was laying on a couch. Slowly, he swung his legs over, and his socked feet met plush carpet.

A blanket slipped off his shoulders, pooling on his lap, a white hospital style cotton blanket, thin but doubled over so he wasn’t cold at all. Chase picked at it with his fingertips, confused. This wasn’t a hospital, and he had most certainly fallen unconscious in the presence of enemies – perhaps he had been rescued, yet again?

He had been wrong about the furniture- there was a small lamp, with a dark shade, on the end table beside the couch. Chase’s fingers fumbled under the shade to find the switch, but light flooded the room a moment later.

Grey walls, grey carpet, grey sofa.

 _At least it is consistent._ He thought, grudgingly. The light hurt his eyes, but he left it on.

“Where am I?” he asked out loud, rubbing the space between his eyes to try to dispel the ache.

“You are in an unused V.I.L.E. safe house.”

Chase startled, jerking away from the voice- a door that had blended into the shadows of the wall stood open, and this _Shadowsan_ stood with his hand on the doorknob, a cup with steam slowly wafting up in the other.

He shuffled back on the couch, scowling.

“What is that? Poison? Do you want to _finish the job?”_

The V.I.L.E. traitor scoffed, stepping into the room. His footsteps made no sound, but Chase noticed he too was in his socks. His feet sank into the carpet, like it was new.

 _Or unused._ Perhaps he meant to kill him here, and Chase Devineaux would simple disappear, another missing person who would eventually be forgotten.

“Why would I rescue you, only to kill you? That would be a pointless waste of time and effort.” He set the cup down on the side table with a soft click. “It is just tea. You should drink it, you need the liquid. Although,” he straightened and narrowed his eyes at Chase, tucking his hands into his wide sleeves. “Perhaps you do not need the caffeine. You seem to be rather _excitable_ without a stimulant.”

Chase scowled. _This man is an asshole._

And he very clearly didn’t consider Chase a threat. With a frustrated noise, he picked up the cup, holding it under his nose. Strong black tea, with milk.

“With your history, I don’t think you would have luck detecting a poison either way,” Shadowsan added, just as Chase took a sip. He choked on it, coughing.

“Did you—?” Spluttered the agent, flushing.

Shadowsan tsked again, unimpressed. “What would be the point? You have the luck of a fool, I don’t doubt it would simply backfire.” He looked disgusted.

Chase lifted the cup again, sipping slower. He was thirsty, now that he had a drink.

“Is she your daughter?” he asked, settling back against the sofa.

Shadowsan grunted softly, then nodded.

“How could you tell?”

“You are both very rude.” He smirked in satisfaction at the scowl the remark got. Chase was more than aware of how his reckless enthusiasm was often interpreted as stupidity, but he had not made it so far in his career by being without any skill. The way they had behaved when ever they were around each other- there was some sort of relation.

“Why did you help me?” he asked, quietly. The mug felt like a shield; he felt the memories of the last time they had met, crawling up in his mind. How sickening it had been to have things torn from him, things he had not wanted to share. The cold indifference of Shadowsan had not changed; he still stood against the wall, looking at Chase like he was something to be squashed. Something weak.

“Carmen asked. I don’t want her involved with ACME, I don’t want her caught. So, now you are here.”

“Now I am here.” Chase agreed. He hesitated, then reluctantly asked, “What… what will you do?”

The look was calculating, a slow and lingering sweep from his toes to his head.

Eventually, Shadowsan sighed, and pushed himself off the wall.

“Get some rest. I will bring you something to eat.”

He left Chase in the dim room without another word, closing the door silently behind him.

\--

Against all odds, Chase did sleep. It was not a good sleep; his dreams were strange and twisted, Shadowsan’s face leaning over him as he placed the device on his head. His face, turning into a void, and the sound of ringing that got louder and louder as it powered up. The feel of his mind being fogged, and a howling laughter he was distantly aware was not real.

His skin _itched_. And then it burned, and he was on _fire-_

“Wake _up!”_ someone yelled at him. Chase was shaken hard, and jolted from the dream, still confused and afraid. He sat up with a shout, grabbing the shirt front of whoever was leaning over him, and twisted with all his strength, dragging them over his blanketed legs as he twisted and threw them down in the couch. Chase kicked the blanket free of his legs, and scrambled to straddle his assailant’s body.

He took a pause, trying to gather his bearings, and was startled to realize he was shaking. Chase looked down into the face of an equally surprised Shadowsan. A plate was balanced beside the lamp, perilously close to the edge.

His eyes darted between the plate and his hands; he couldn’t uncurl his fingers from the soft linen of his shirt. When he tried, they clenched harder, his hands shaking.

“I- _Je suis désolé_.” He gasped, struggling to find the words. They slipped away from him, every language just beyond his grasp. “I’m _sorry_.”

But he still could not move his hands. He held the older man down, staring at him with wild eyes.

“You were dreaming. It is a side effect, the vividness. Of the tranquilizer,” Shadowsan added. His dark eyes reminded Chase of how his face had turned into a shadow. He sat back, blinking harshly.

“Is this-?”

“No. You are awake. Take a breath, and try to calm down.” His voice was soft and steady, nothing like the shrieking that had filled his head. Chase took a ragged breather, heart still beating too fast. His head _ached_.

 _You are still burning. This is the dream_ , whispered the small voice in his head. Shadowsan continued to watch him with dark, dark eyes. He hadn’t moved since Chase had pinned him, laying awkwardly slumped underneath him. His hands rested very carefully on Chase’s abdomen, palms flat to his shirt like he had begun to ward him off and then thought better of the gesture.

“How can I tell this is real?” he was ashamed at how his voice shook.

The silence was so loud.

Then Shadowsan propped himself up on one elbow, and kissed him.

Chase jerked back in surprise, drawing a sharp breath. It felt like he’d been hit by ice water. Shadowsan remained reclining, tension carefully hidden away. But Chase could see his fist clenched against the couch.

“See? Would you do such a thing in a drea—” started Shadowsan. He was cut off abruptly when Chase grabbed him by his shirt front and pulling him upright, slanting their lips together and stealing the last breath of the word right from Shadowsan’s mouth.

The agent pulled him close, but the kiss was awkward, the angle all wrong. Shadowsan slid his hand into Chase’s hair, and pulled his head back until he could press his lips to his throat, feel the hard pound of his heartbeat with his tongue.

“I’m awake,” Chase rasped, sifting in Shadowsan’s lap. He pressed harder against him, like he wished by sheer pressure to get at his skin. His hands dug into Shadowsan’s shoulders, circling his body to tug downward on his clothing until his collar began to unfasten, the cross tie of his kimono straining under the clutch of the agent’s hands. 

“You are, yes.” Shadowsan assured him again, while gripping his jaw, and refocusing Chase.

His mouth tasted like the tea he had brought him, lips dry but soft. His stubble scratched at Shadowsan’s palm as he opened the agent’s mouth for him, holding him close enough to lick slow and filthy into it, and leave him gasping at a loss for words.

 _This is a bad idea,_ thought Shadowsan, but the heavy weight of Chase in his lap felt good, good enough to ignore good sense that said he should stop this. Good enough to make him wonder if this irritating, loud, persistent man would allow him to touch his skin.

Chase pulled away from him, just as the idea began to warm his skin, and Shadowsan carefully withdrew his touches, sure this was the end of it.

“Necking is for children,” said Chase, and his voice sounded much better when it was roughened with lust. “And we are not children.”

Perhaps he should have expected more manhandling, but it was a titillating thing to have happen to him of all people. So when the ACME agent sat up on his knees, sliding onto of his legs between Shadowsan’s, he simply let it happen. He was curious where he intended to go with his, how far his fever-like lust would take him.

Agent Devineaux tugged him down the couch by his hips, and then rolled them both onto their sides facing one another, their legs tangled together. Shadowsan let out a soft breath as the taller man’s leg rubbed against his thickening member, surprised to find he was as hard as he was. An answering hardness pressed into his own thigh, Chase rubbing it slowly against him.

It was a good position, pressed close by the narrowness of the couch.

Shadowsan let his eyes slide closed, and allowed Devineaux to tilt his head back, run his rough five o’clock shadow down his neck to push aside the neck of his kimono and suck a mark into his clavicle.

“you can’t keep this up,” he stumbled faintly over the words, the pleasant buzz of his skin under Chase’s mouth making his head swim. “Hurry up.”

Having the front of his pants ripped rudely out from under his tied belt should have been something he would expect from the fool, but he quickly forgave the action as Chase’s hot palm closed over his cock, stroking it firmly. He rubbed his own erection against Shadowsan’s barely clothed thigh, each of his frantic motions tugging the fabric down lower until the soft fabric of his slacks rubbed against his hip.

Shadowsan closed his eyes, hand in Chase’s hair, the other shoved up under his shirt to hold his surprisingly fit back. Fingers digging in as both their breath became choppy.

It hit him fast and sharp, and he grunted rather then moan, nails digging a line down Chase’s spine as he spent on their shirts. Perhaps it was just timing, but Chase swore softly against his skin, pressing his face close – although neither had the breath, or inclination to kiss- and humped frantically at his thigh as he came in his pants.

After a moment, the agent pulled his hand from between their bodies, tugging up the front of Shadowsan’s kimono pants, and sagged against him. He could see Chase wipe the sheen of cum on his own soiled slacks.

“I want to go back to sleep.” Chase said quietly, after he caught his breathe.

Shadowsan huffed a laugh.

“Just not on me.”


End file.
